


Mercurial Tears & Other Colors

by CschMan20



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Depressing, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, POV Third Person Limited, Romance, Sad themes, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-30 09:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CschMan20/pseuds/CschMan20
Summary: [Two-Part Short Story] Ino has been having difficulty with relationships, and after feeling as if she'll never be able to find someone who wants her in the most intimate way possible, he reveals himself. And it changes everything.





	1. Part 1

Mercurial Tears & Other Colors

 

Part 1

* * *

 

Ino’s patience was almost completely dissolved by the time Sakura and Naruto arrived at the restaurant, but after witnessing their excited grins at seeing her, she decided it was best to feel grateful rather than annoyed. 

 

“Sorry we’re late,” Sakura said as she hugged her, the sound of clinking dishes and silverware floating around them along with the idle chatter of the other patrons. 

 

“It’s fine,” said Ino with sincerity, her impatience a forgotten memory already. “I won’t hold it against you guys.” 

 

Naruto shook his head and gave her a thumbs-up. “Glad to hear. We’d deserve it, too. We honestly just got lost in a conversation and forgot about meeting you here.” He laughed with embarrassment, and Sakura frowned apologetically.

 

Ino gestured to their table for them to sit. “It’s totally cool, guys. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we can finally eat; I’m starving.”

 

Sakura nodded, smiling. “Me, too.”

 

They took their seats and continued their surface-level dialogue. It wasn’t until after their food was served that matters got deeper, which, truthfully, Ino wished would have come sooner. She had grown quite close to the two of them in the years after the war, and she thought they knew each other well by this point in their relationship. They kept one another updated about their lives and tried to maintain a regular schedule of seeing each other as much as possible. Ino and Sakura still worked at the hospital together and when Naruto wasn’t assisting Kakashi with his Hokage duties, he usually decided to join them in their free time. Yet despite Ino’s wishes of quicker vulnerability among the three of them, she knew it was her fault the conversation didn’t go the direction she wanted until she forced it to. 

 

With her plate of noodles half-finished, Ino lowered her chopsticks and sighed. Naruto and Sakura noticed her trepidation and both exchanged similar expressions of concern. 

 

“Something wrong?” Naruto asked before Sakura could. 

 

Ino had been thinking of the best way to tell them all day long. She didn’t enjoy being indirect about her feelings, but fear had an odd way of making a person approach a situation differently than they usually would. 

 

And Ino was afraid. 

 

“I have a date tomorrow,” she almost whispered. 

 

Their reactions, unlike their earlier expressions, were practically opposite of each other. Sakura brought her hand up to her mouth, as if she was attempting to conceal her obvious apprehension. Naruto, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He began to ask questions, his words picking up speed the more he talked. Somehow, this only made Ino pay more attention to Sakura’s silence. She noted the way she was staring intently at Naruto, like she was searching for a strange trait she never knew her friend possessed before. It was a little peculiar. She silently wished she could know what she was thinking then. 

 

Ino tried to keep up with Naruto’s questions, but most of them were ones she couldn’t answer. She barely understood what had happened herself. While she had always considered herself a rather aggressive woman, the fact that she had actually asked  _ him  _ out bewildered her just as much as it would anybody. The first notion to cross her mind when she had asked him was one of strong doubt. She had done it in the crowded street almost as soon as she saw him the day before. 

 

The sudden, impetuous decision had surfaced in her mind like a swimmer breathing for air and before she knew it, she was approaching the man with a friendly smile. The shock on his face matched Ino’s own inner amazement rather well, she thought, and they quickly exchanged the necessary information and from that point, Ino felt she had locked herself in a derisory situation. She kept convincing herself, however, it wasn’t a bad idea. He was handsome and seemed to have an overall cordial demeanor.  

 

And, well, there was another reason she acted so impulsively: loneliness. 

 

It wasn’t something she enjoyed thinking about, let alone talking about, so she typically refrained from contemplating beyond what she needed to, but maybe this one would work out. Her brashness had attracted him, and she entertained the idea of getting to know him more. 

 

“What was his name again?” asked Naruto, pulling her from her stupor.

 

Ino blinked and placed her fingers delicately on her neck. “Oh...uh...Koya, I believe.”

 

Naruto frowned thoughtfully and leaned into his chair. “Koya? I don’t think I know anybody by that name...do you, Sakura?”

 

Sakura didn’t respond immediately, not as if she wasn’t paying attention like Naruto often was, but more because she appeared to be mentally tackling something more than just Sakura’s question. Ino could relate to that, she supposed.

 

“No, can’t say I do,” she replied slowly.

 

Her response must have mitigated Naruto’s excitement because after that he was calm. “I see. Did you find out if he was a shinobi, Ino?”

 

Ino shook her head. “He’s not. He didn’t carry himself like one, anyway, and I would have probably recognized him at least.”

 

Naruto folded his arms. “A civilian, eh? I always thought you’d be better off with some macho S-class kind of guy. But, well, as long as he’s good for you, then it doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

 

“Woah,” said Sakura, “let’s not get carried away here; it’s just a date.”

 

Naruto shrugged. “So? Don’t these things move fast once they start?”

 

Sakura’s strong gaze lingered on him for a lot longer than Ino had expected. There was a steadiness in Naruto’s own eyes as well. It was as if they were trying to communicate to one another with just their eyes, and it made Ino uneasy. They both knew something—she was sure of it. 

 

Finally, they broke their looks and regarded Ino again. “Where you guys meeting up?” Naruto asked smoothly.

 

Ino sighed and rubbed her forehead. “We said we’d meet at one of those nicer restaurants near the south part of the village.”

 

Sakura must have noted her exasperation because her next words were sincere. “I hope you don’t feel bad for telling us about this, Ino. It’s hard to put yourself out there, especially for...you. So we just want you to know we both support it.”

 

Ino flashed a smile. “Thanks, Sakura. I know you guys mean well; I’m just tired. I got a lot to think about, I guess.”

 

“Of course you do,” agreed Sakura. “You wanna call it a day?”

 

She did. And from there, they said goodbye and Ino headed home. The walk back was short, but it felt long to her. She felt as if she was traversing her entire mind as she roamed the streets with a pensive expression, trying to unravel her coiled thoughts that seemed bound by their own complexities. And as she neared her door, she could feel those thoughts shift back towards the cryptic look between her two friends. She didn’t like the fact they had a secret.

 

And it definitely had to do with her. Yeah, she really didn’t like that.

* * *

 

It was late in the afternoon when Ino stepped out of her apartment, and she could clearly view the sun setting from the top of her steps. The low horizon dipped in blood orange paint was shying colorful, ineffable discs at her as the dark branches of the trees poked into it, like slim child fingers scratching against a beautiful canvas. 

 

The sight reminded her of how desolate she felt.

 

That feeling had developed slowly over the last few years. As she began to shuffle towards the restaurant where she was to meet her date, Ino’s brooding stretched over how that development started. She supposed it had something to do with the monotony of her failed love life. Every date ended with a terrible, quiet realization she had messed it up somehow. Even if it wasn’t entirely her fault, it was  _ partially.  _ See, Ino was prone to saying too much, opening up too quickly, and it was this vulnerability that caused her so much distress. Because whenever the moment took over and the young, handsome man would give her that assurance that she could say whatever she wanted, she simply forgot herself. She forgot the basic, ugly truth:

 

Nobody wanted to hear it.

 

At least, not early on. People tended to forget how awful others were. Everyone wanted to believe the world wasn’t so appalling—that humans were inherently good and were constantly trying to better themselves. But humanity was hideous, and they kept trying to hide that fact from one another. Of course, they had their moments. When a couple of many years finally exposed their hearts—both ghastly and beautiful—to each other and then accepted what they shared, that was probably one of its finest moments for sure. But to get there took a long time, at least it normally did, and Ino just couldn’t seem to grasp that; she didn’t want to wait.

 

But this would be different, she told herself. This time she would pace herself and keep matters casual. For every time she revealed who she was to a man, they fled and she was left with the gnawing ache of knowing she was to blame. If only she had more patience, she thought, if only she remembered etiquette and waited for the right time, then maybe it would work. 

 

She reached the restaurant right on time and found Koya waiting for her outside the entrance. When he saw her, he waved and beckoned her over. 

 

“Ino! Hi!”

 

She approached him and presented a demure smile. “Hello, Koya. I hope you didn’t wait long.”

 

He grinned and shook his head. “Not at all. Just got here, in fact. I hope you’re hungry.”

 

“Famished,” she commented as she followed him into the restaurant.

 

They were seated and were immediately thrown into that wondrous ride of getting to know one another. For many people, this process was seen as tedious and perhaps even a little meaningless; however, Ino always loved it. She felt as if she was discovering a new piece of the world every time she was allowed to share another’s experiences. This was also another reason why the pain of rejection ended up hurting as much as it did. In the end, it only added to the feeling of futility. 

  
  


But Ino quickly forgot about all that the more she talked with Koya. The food was good and the conversation was even better. It turned out Koya was the son of a merchant in Konoha, and he owned his own shipping business. Ino learned his business had originally been one of his father’s original projects, and when Koya showed he was capable of using fine management skills, he gave his son full responsibility of the company. It seemed the continual peace of the current times had really helped with his enterprise as there was a lot of profit being made. 

 

Ino listened to Koya’s stories of success, failure, and his own personal anecdotes with a sense of intrigue and jubilation. It didn’t take long for his brown eyes to soften while he talked, and Ino found herself insatiably drawn to them. She liked his laugh and his calm behavior. He made her comfortable. And unfortunately that was where the real tragedy began. For when she was on her floor later that night, soaked in her tears, she wouldn’t remember those eyes as soft. No, not soft at all.

 

“Do you like working there?” Koya asked as he finished the last morsel of his rice plate. 

 

“The hospital? Yes, I do. I mean, it’s not always the best. There are some days that can get really hectic and even...emotional, but for the most part, it’s pretty humbling.”

 

“I see.” He paused. He appeared to be debating something and then added: “What do you mean emotional?”

 

Ino’s eyes widened slightly, and she could feel a pleasant tug on her lips. He wanted to know more. He wanted to hear more about her. There was something so pure and simple about that. It made her feel loved, and she was so greedy when it came to that feeling. It was so easy for her to not learn her lesson when she couldn’t be satisfied. 

 

“Well, sometimes,” she started, “you get a patient that you sympathize with. Like a child or a mother or someone you feel doesn’t deserve to be there.”

 

“Could you give me an example?” he inquired politely.

 

Ino studied his expression. His eyebrows were low, and his tone was sincere. Her trusting nature was slipping in, unheeded and burdened with worn practice. She accepted it the same way she always did, as if she was merely slipping on her clothes. 

 

“There was a little girl once,” she said. “She had suffered a terrible head injury. Normally, another specialist would have handled this case, but we were short-staffed that night.” Ino felt her stomach flip a little at the memory. She didn’t like recollecting it, but she loved the feeling of revealing her heart, her emotions—it was addicting. 

 

“I spent hours operating on her. She was in critical condition for too long before she had even been brought to us and from a medical point-of-view, there was a very low chance of survival from the beginning. But I didn’t really care about statistical advantage back then.”

 

“Of course,” Koya commented tenderly. 

 

Ino smiled sadly, thankful for his attention. “I just kept thinking about how grateful that little girl would feel if I succeeded. I mean, even if she didn’t know it, she was putting all her trust in me. If I could save her life, then she would see me as her savior. That thought kept me going, really going, I think. I probably wouldn’t have accomplished as much as I did if it wasn’t for that thought...yet…”

 

She paused and remained quiet for a while. Koya seemed to want to say something, but the uncertainty in her eyes must have kept him silent. 

 

After finding the comfort level dropped too much for her not to continue, Ino said: “But it wasn’t enough.”

 

She couldn’t meet his gaze after that. She knew it was a mistake to have even started the story. It was too dreary, too unfair. But Ino knew what he was doing even if she wasn’t watching him—the shifting in his seat, the nervous clutch of the neck, the wary glances to the other tables around them...it was natural. Most people didn’t expect depth to rush at them all at once. Time was the ultimate buffer and nothing was really organic without it. She hated that concept, really hated it. 

 

Finally, after the pain became too great, she looked up. She wondered if it would have been more cruel if she had been wrong because by that point she would have been hurt later on anyway. Koya was looking at another table, clear discomfiture present on his face.

 

Ino’s gaze dropped.  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

Thankfully, his manners were strong enough for him to heal the situation. He shrugged and smiled thinly. “No, it’s fine. That must have been hard for you.” 

 

His words fell loosely into the air, and she felt that familiar sensation again. And by the time the date was over, the sensation had become pronounced; it felt like a piece of paper being slowly torn apart within her, one that seemed to be getting too small. 

 

Koya had the decency to walk her part of the ways to her home but not the whole way. No, that would be too much because then he would have more of a reason to come back. When they got to the point he deemed was too far, he turned to her with an affable smile. It looked completely different from the one she saw at the beginning of the date—this one was hollow.

 

“Well, I had fun,” he said.

 

Ino dropped both of her hands in front of her and looked down. “Yes, I did too.”

 

“Maybe we’ll see each other again?”

 

She knew from his tone that he didn’t mean that, but she gracefully replied with: “I hope so!”

 

The sky was black now. Little silver dots had been poked into it, but she couldn’t notice them as she rushed to her apartment. She was out of breath by the time she reached her apartment, and it wasn’t from lack of endurance.   

 

She was painfully sick. Her stomach kept bouncing—pounding against its confines. She could feel the painful, acidic bits of bile scratching her throat as she tried to hold them down. She only managed to do so because her eyes were beginning to water and she didn’t want to vomit when she cried. Ino couldn’t handle that loss of dignity, too. She didn’t deserve any of this. She just wanted to wash away this stain, this ugly spot that grew and remained as long as no one wanted her.

 

Why did it work like this? Why did it have to burrow into the soul and shred its hope into pieces? Humans really were horrible, it seemed. Not just because they hurt each other, but because they allowed themselves to be hurt. They maintained their fragility even after their entire existence led to the fact that they shouldn’t. They never learned. She never learned. She kept making the same mistake. She was so stupid, so careless.

 

So lonely.

 

Finally, after the nausea vanished and the tears were only dried, sticky trails running down from her eyelids, Ino fell asleep, clutching her stomach tenderly as the hardwood floor of her apartment was made her temporary bed. Her sleep was dreamless so no nightmares could come crawling over to unsettle her even further, but even that little gift wouldn’t help her. What could? That night the moon peeked through her little window and bathed her in its pale light. If she had been awake, she would have cried again at the reminder that even the moon couldn’t make her feel less lonely. Maybe nothing could.

* * *

 

Ino heard a knock on the door. She didn’t want to answer it. She battled with the conflicting choices for a few moments, questioning if it was disgracious to just sit on her couch in solitude. It was unlocked despite the hour. She had spent the entire day in her living room, aching. If they really wanted to get in, they could. The notion of it being Koya coming to apologize almost made her get up, but she shoved that hope deep down. It was over. She was done opening up a piece of her that was only going to be hurt again later. She knew she was lying to herself though; she would open up again sooner or later. And that was why she didn’t answer the door. 

 

Fortunately, it opened after another knock and someone stepped in. Ino didn’t look up to see who it was. She simply heard their methodical steps against the floor as they neared her. She just couldn’t look up. She couldn’t stand the sight of seeing Koya staring at her—staring at her with pity. She knew she was a mess. She didn’t need the proof in his eyes to know that. Dammit, why? Why was she such a disgrace?

 

“Ino?” said a soft voice in front of her.

 

She immediately recognized the voice and lifted her head. Her dear friend, Sakura, was looking at her, deep concern overflowing from her expression. Upon seeing her, Ino couldn’t hold in her relief. That relief released itself in the form of tears, and it made the concern increase in her friend. 

 

“Oh, Ino! Are you OK?” She rushed to Ino and embraced her. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

 

Ino tried to tell her through the sobs, but it was all nonsensical. She probably sounded like an idiot and that made her want to laugh, yet it only made her cry harder. There was a sweltering guilt sizzling within her, and she cursed it along with her damn tears. Why did she feel guilty? She had done nothing wrong, but the touch of her friend holding her, comforting her, made the remorse burn. 

 

“I fucked it up, Sakura,” she admitted quietly. 

 

“No, Ino. No, you couldn’t have.”

 

Ino clutched her head tightly. “But I did! I got selfish again. I forgot about who I needed to be and ended up…”

 

“What?” Sakura asked with something akin to spite, but more considerate than that. She sounded like she was trying to wake someone up. “Ended up being yourself?”

 

This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation. Although, Ino was pretty sure Sakura knew it was far more serious this time around. She was just so vulnerable, after all, so pathetic. “He was so kind, Sakura. I trust too much, I know, bu—”

 

“Stop, Ino,” Sakura demanded softly, “you’re being unfair.”

 

Ino always appreciated how calm her friend could be even when she herself was babbling and wailing. She sniffled and reclined her head on Sakura’s shoulder. “I’m just tired of having regrets. I feel like no matter what I do, I end up blaming myself.”

 

Sakura brushed Ino’s blonde locks, delicately gliding her fingers from her scalp down to the tips. She then sighed, as if she was exhausted by the weight of the words she needed to say. 

 

“I wonder if it’s impossible, Ino,” she said slowly. “To really not blame yourself at all. I don’t think we can do it.”

 

Ino hated that; it left a sour taste in her mouth. “But I’m stuck here. I’m stuck in a part of me that won’t let me pull out. Maybe it’s society. Maybe it’s men. Maybe it isn’t me, but I can’t be satisfied with an answer like that. It doesn’t help me. It just makes me feel more sad.”

 

Sakura shook her head. “Then what would satisfy you, Ino? A man who could handle whatever you threw at him? Would you stop blaming yourself then?”

 

“No, probably not, but it’d make me forget this guilt—if only for a little while.”

 

For the next several minutes, Sakura was quiet. At one point during this silence, Ino looked up and saw her conflicted expression. It was similar to the one she saw between her and Naruto in the restaurant the other day, but there was another emotion present there—one she found to be even more perplexing: shame.

 

Just when Ino was about to say something, to question if it was best to dwell so strongly on such an emotion, Sakura whispered: “Can you promise me that?”

 

Ino sat up and eyed her friend curiously, her unhappiness pushed back for the time being. “Huh?”

 

Sakura frowned, not in anger but in concentration. “Can you actually promise it would help?”

 

Ino hadn’t seen this level of earnestness from her friend in a long time. It shocked her, but more than that, it intrigued her.  “That what would? A man who could handle me?”

 

Sakura nodded. Now, Ino was really taken back. Had she been planning this? No, she thought quickly. Her demeanor implied she had just thought of it. Somehow, Ino knew this had to do with the complex look again. 

 

Sakura leaned in and kept that same whisper intact, but it was harsher this time, urgent. “I shouldn’t be talking about this, but I will if you  _ promise. _ ”

 

“Promise what again?”

 

“That it will help.”

 

“I can’t,” Ino admitted.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I might regret it.”

 

Sakura frowned again. This time Ino was certain it was because she was angry  _ and  _ concerned. “Fine. Then I’ll have him tell you.”

 

“Who?” Ino wasn’t sure she could handle this. She had spent the majority of her day in a gloomy air, so for her to switch to a different, yet just as strong emotion so suddenly was starting to wear on her. 

 

“Stay here,” Sakura demanded as she stood up. “I need to go make this right.”

 

Ino had a thousand questions all at once, but the only one she asked aloud was: “Make what right?”

 

Sakura smiled tenderly. And it was at this point in the evening, despite all the wonderful things her friend had said, where Ino thought she looked the most beautiful. “This guilt.” She was out the door after that, and Ino was left alone again in her dreary world. 


	2. Part 2

Mercurial Tears & Other Colors

 

Part 2

 

Later that night, when the darker forms of her nightmares were at their strongest, Ino heard another knock on her door, and this time she answered it.

 

Her hardwood floor was a desert she traversed as she approached her door, one devoid of compassionate moisture or reprieve from the unrelenting and harsh elements. She trudged through the arid, rocky ground where ancient tears had once fallen, but they were forgotten. The hot sun made them vanish. She remembered them, though. It was within this crisp, dry brush and yellowed boulders stained by sunlight that she was tightly bound by her issues, and at the end of it she knew there was only more pain, as if even wondering otherwise would be ultimately crueler for her.

 

A false hope like that would make it worse.

 

She paused as she reached for the doorknob, despite the slight urgency in her hands. She was focusing on the words Sakura had said. Their entire exchange, much like the other dubious matters in her life, kept thrashing harmfully in her. The last few years had been spent within that quiet, foggy part of her mind where all tend to go when they have wrapped themselves in the cloak of regret and eschewed any relief from it, that unbearable damned cloak that tore away any resistance. She felt as if she would never leave it again because it kept on repeating: the affection, the sadness, the anger, the loneliness, the confusion, the relief, and now it was fear.   

 

She was scared who was behind the door. If she had been in a less aggravated state, then maybe she would have sensed who they were, but she could barely hear her own breathing now. It wasn’t Sakura, was it? No, this was a different person, someone who could help according to her friend. But what could they do? She couldn’t imagine they would just fix everything right up and that would be the end of it. But then again, maybe all she was really looking for was a little relief—just enough to make her feel normal again, like she wasn’t a dejected wreck who couldn’t be saved. Yeah, that’d be nice.

 

So finally, her reluctance slithered away, and she opened the door. Within her agitated mindset, she had pulled it open so quickly that she barely had time to register who it was for a moment. Yet sure enough, those bright, unmistakable blond streaks shined through the doorway, and she found herself openly surprised. And she stood there, staring at him as if he was only an illusion—another kind of sick joke her mind created to help her cope with her dilemma.

 

Naruto just smiled at her expression like he had been expecting to see it. “Hey, Ino,” he greeted softly.

 

Ino blinked and managed to summon enough sense to say: “Hi.”

 

He nodded in the direction of the doorway in front of him. “You gonna let me in? I know it’s late and all, but I thought I could stop by for a little while.”

 

Ino slowly nodded and stepped away to give him access. She watched him enter, and suddenly she felt anxious. Even though she and Naruto had become good friends in recent years, he had never visited her apartment alone before. He had stopped by a few times with Sakura before, but this was a completely new experience. And what really frightened her, what started to lift that withered cloak of regret, was that she was a little happy he came.

 

She followed him into the living room and motioned for him to sit on her sofa. He took his seat as she grabbed a nearby chair and placed it across from the couch.

 

Ino managed to strain a smile for him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, you know.”

 

Naruto returned her smile with one of his own, and she could tell it wasn’t strained. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to be here either, but Sakura said you needed it.”

 

She frowned slightly. “She said that?” Her problems were definitely not meant to reach Naruto like this. She barely spoke about her more unpleasant feelings in his presence. “Is that all she told you?”

 

Naruto winced a little, implying he had probably said too much. Of course, she had pieced it together before he had said anything at all, but it still worried her to hear it aloud.

 

“Pretty much,” he stated, “I mean, there was the part about how your date didn’t go so well, and that you needed me.” There was a brief pause before he gazed directly at her, his face hard and unreadable. “Me, specifically.”

 

Ino averted her eyes from him and fixed them to the floor, her desert scorched by her own shame. “I see. Well, I’m not sure why she asked you, but I promise you I’m fine.”

 

It was then that Naruto’s eyes softened, and he shook his head unhappily. “I don’t believe you,” he remarked.

 

Her focus darted back to him in a frenzied manner, and she could sense that terrifying cloak tighten around her. She wanted to feel angered by his claim—to act as if it was asinine and not worth considering at all. Yet all she could manage to say was: “What?”

 

“I don’t believe you,” he repeated. “It’s all over your face, Ino. Did you know you looked so sad?”

 

Ino wanted to break then. She wanted to cry and scream at him, at her problems, at the world. Her pain wasn’t born from grief or any real specific event because then an outsider could probably justify it to themselves—because then maybe they would sympathize. No, hers was born from the loneliness and crippled brooding from under the cloak. That’s what happened to those who stayed underneath it too long, and for her it was becoming _obvious_. She couldn’t stand that. She didn’t want people to see all that, especially him, especially a man who saw past the pain he received and tried to find a new path for others to follow after him. How was she supposed to follow? How was she supposed to fucking do that when she just wasn’t strong enough?

 

“I...I wasn’t aware,” she eventually replied.

 

His striking blue eyes held so much sorrow in them, and she hated that. He was sad because of her, and she hated it. “He didn’t get it, did he? Your date, that is.”

 

Ino stifled her tears as best she could. She managed to succeed, but that terrible, corrosive ache in her heart was still there. He saw right through her. Of course, he did, she surmised; she was being transparent with her feelings and didn’t even know it. She probably had been for years now, but he had remained quiet and polite, always observing her to wait for the proper time to say something. For that, she was a little grateful, but it was muted like the colors of the sky when the clouds concealed them.

 

“No, he didn’t,” she admitted. “He didn’t get it at all, Naruto.”

 

He nodded and sighed. He leaned back against the frame of the sofa and looked off at some place unknown to her. She thought he looked handsome then—a thought that had crossed her mind a few times in the past. He was brave and strong, and there was a vibrant kindness to his actions that she had always seen as charming, but she had never acted on those impulses because of her other priorities. As a teenager, she typically found popularity, acts of heroism, and good looks to be the defining features of her ideal man. But she was a little different now, and she considered other factors instead these days. And that night, she considered something else.

 

“He’s not a shinobi, Ino,” Naruto started. “You can’t expect—”

 

“I didn’t!” she exclaimed as she was being pulled back into reality. “I never expected him to understand!” Her eyes were still dry, much like her lips, and she ran a trembling hand through her hair. She pondered what she looked like then. She hadn’t cleaned herself all day, so she must have appeared dirty to him. She was still wearing the dress she had worn for the date yesterday, and it probably didn’t even look good back then. She used to be so confident in herself. She used to see herself as a queen, but now she was a crumpled mess of emotion and fear. “How could I expect anyone to understand?”

 

“I don’t think anybody can completely understand another’s pain,” Naruto said in so low a tone that it almost didn’t sound like his voice.

 

Ino rubbed her shoulder gingerly. “I don’t see how that matters here. I’m just complaining, of course.” She feigned a laugh. “It’s not like my problems are anything like yours were. You were actually isolated and scorned by everybody.”

 

Naruto frowned. “That’s my point, Ino; you’re belittling it.”

 

Her eyes widened. “What? No, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to. I’m saying the opposite. You went through something far worse than I am—”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” he stated firmly. “You can’t compare it. My pain is my own and it’s nothing like yours, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less important. It’s _very_ important.”

 

Ino was perplexed. She hadn’t heard a claim like this before. Naruto had barely ever mentioned his childhood to her, but the few times he did she had listened intently and with an understanding that she couldn’t possibly relate to it. But now he was saying that was somehow good—that her pain really did matter, even if it may have seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things. She felt affirmed, cared for, and that was what she had been craving. She felt like a beggar, scouring every hand that offered what she wanted, and that made her want to feel filthy. But this time, with those warm eyes that promised some comfort, she just couldn’t dwell on her self-pity.

 

Ino recalled a time back when she was a little girl where her father had taken her on a long hike up one of the nearby mountains. The hike had been pleasant enough, but what she remembered quite vividly was the sight she had witnessed when they reached the top. There had been a sea of branches and leaves covering such a great expanse that it had made her little head swim with imaginary thoughts and whimsical ideas, as if she was able to just barely glimpse the true intricacies of the world in that singular moment.

 

But her favorite part of that memory was the beautiful bird that had landed on the rock next to her. Her father had smiled and told her to be quiet, so they could continue to enjoy the bird. And Ino did. Her surprise and delight had been tremendously uplifted, and the simplicity of the beauty didn’t seem to limit her then like it did now.

 

Seeing Naruto’s face now made that old memory of the bird rise and settle comfortably within her. It felt like she was almost weighed down by it, grounded by its stability. Yet, it still didn’t seem to be enough. This feeling, much like the rest of the world, was transient, and she couldn’t clasp a hold that was so blurred like that. It was too ambiguous.

 

As Ino was caught in her stupor, Naruto leaned forward. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt, you know. I found that to matter a lot in the past.”

 

Ino’s eyes brightened as she gathered what he was saying. “How so?”

 

Naruto fumbled with his hands, as if collecting his words was a challenge. “Well, the more I tried to hide my feelings of loneliness and anger as a kid, the more I felt as if I was distancing myself. But the fact was that I had been so _angry_ , and I was for a long time. I had to take a deep look at myself to realize what I had been doing, and that was when I saw everything for what it was. I had left that part unchecked, and it had felt abandoned.” A thoughtful smile spread throughout his lips. “So now I try not hide to anything, if I’m upset or mad, then I don’t deny it. And that’s made all the difference, really.”

 

He slid across the couch and sat at the end closest to her; he was only less than a meter from her now, his hands ever so near to hers. “So, I guess, you should stop denying it, too, Ino. Don’t pretend anymore.”

 

So, she did. She stopped.

 

She wept and felt his hands reach to console her and she let them. She allowed him to see the awful pain in her tears as the glimmering strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks. They embraced, and she couldn’t stop to consider the ramifications of her actions. She had been open to people and yet so closed off as well, only showing the parts she wanted to, and after realizing even those were too much for them, she couldn’t accept that anybody would want to see everything. Those parts of hers Naruto spoke of were the ones that seemed so ugly and unwanted, because frankly, they were. At least, people treated them that way.

 

Every night after an unsuccessful date in the past, Ino was left in a gloomy world. She wrapped herself in that cloak and ruminated over every tiny mistake, every opportunity she had missed as if she could have really done anything about it. But they kept looking at her like that! Those horrible, insufferable looks! They said she talked too much, that she expected too much of strangers, that maybe they were reasonable people with compassionate hearts for telling her this. But they only were when they wanted to be and when you broke the status quo, then they had full right to walk away.

 

But Naruto was saying he didn’t care about all that, and she really felt like she was starting to believe him. Oh dear, was she asking for it, now. She was _definitely_ making a mistake now, right? The slimmer, more abrasive side of her mind said she was, but the warmth in his touch told her otherwise.

 

“I’ve always really cared about you, Ino,” Naruto revealed as he released the hug and gazed at her. “I hope you know that.”

 

Ino breathed deeply. She felt like she wasn’t getting enough air as her heart was also beating rapidly. “Is that all you feel?”

 

Naruto must have not been expecting that because he flinched and bit his lip. She found that to be adorable. “Well, no, I feel something else, I guess.”

 

Suddenly, that cryptic look between him and Sakura the day before made complete sense to her. Damn, if she had been her usual self, then she probably would have picked up on that. To think those two were capable of keeping secrets should have surprised her, but she was too relieved to feel anything but affection then.

 

“I hope it’s how I feel,” she added shyly, carefully. “Because I would really like that. I’ve wanted it for a long time now, you see.”

 

Naruto shook his head skeptically. “I still can’t believe you haven’t gotten that, Ino. You’re so beautiful and capable; I don’t see why you couldn’t have any man you want.”

 

Ino typically despised comments like that. It usually showed how short-sighted people could be and that they weren’t really considering her feelings, but coming from him then, it didn’t seem to be anything more than a compliment. “You’d be surprised what people think, you know,” she said.

 

Her tears ended when she smiled brightly, and she saw his eyes sparkle when they fully captured her. “You really are beautiful, Ino.”

 

She couldn’t wait any longer. She lifted her lips and kissed him. She was through waiting for others to give her what she wanted. She had presented herself as blatantly as her pride would allow and kept the really dark parts under the cloak for too long, and yet they still disregarded her; they still pushed her aside. But she was through with all that.

 

She shucked off the regretful cloak, threw it far away, so she couldn’t use it as an excuse anymore. It had never had any real power over her, only the kind she had given it. This time, she wanted to show everything and if they didn’t like it, then she just needed to remember that she was the only one with all of it. Nobody else had what she had. Her pain was her own, and that seemed to give her strength. It was enough to kiss him, to accept him as hers.

 

And Naruto returned the favor. As his kisses became more ambitious, he threw his spine back and took her with him. She fell on him on top of the couch and their lips didn’t leave each other, even as they became smiles. The heat of their passion was morphing their originally somber temperaments into something more amorous, hungry. She tugged on his shirt, and he took it off hastily. His fingers scrambled for the zipper on the back of her dress, so she helped him with it. His skin scratched against hers and she deliciously slid her nails along it, as if it was made of marble.

 

When he pushed into her, she felt whole again. All the pain melted away and created space for a far more pleasurable sensation, one that promised an intimacy she had been wishing her entire life for. She could feel a mirth rise in her, like a bird opening its wing to fly off. She wasn’t tethered to unhappiness and its cruel implications, and this opened the whole world for her.

 

As their bodies intertwined, her eyes fell on the hardwood floor. She felt a little silly as she previously thought it had looked like it was desert. But it wasn’t. It was a floor. And she was just a confused woman, so maybe she would figure it all out eventually. Life was so mercurial, always shifting itself to be the most important thing it needed to be in that moment. So maybe later on she would enter in an even worse state than any she had encountered before and maybe she would curse the world once again, but it was meaningless to dwell on such things. Life didn’t promise anything, just that it would change. Sometimes, that looked unhelpful or unfair and maybe it was, maybe it was purely against every individual that was born into it. Yet it was so unpredictable that perhaps that was all for the best, and that was just fine with her.

 

When she awoke the next morning, she found herself in her bed. Naruto was sleeping next to her, and the bedroom was submerged in golden light. The drifting colors she saw outside her window that morning reminded her of all the wonderful thoughts she had that evening. She felt as if the beauty around her had always been there, waiting for her to notice it. No one had to wait anymore, it seemed. And that made her laugh so much it woke up the man next to her, which was great since she could start talking to him. Vulnerability wasn’t so bad when she used it for someone who loved her, and she had plenty more to say.       

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I consider this romance story to be a little unconventional. And by that, I mean it doesn't fit the exact standards of a romance because of its personal message, or that's how I see it anyway. This story was frankly more about my personal issues with relationships. Ino's thoughts and grievances were mostly my own, and as writing is typically a form of therapy for me, I decided that was for the best. If you've read any of my other stories, then you probably already know I tend to that a lot. I do apologize if anyone seems out of character in this, which they probably do, because, well, I felt the similarities I wanted to show were more important than anything else. I suppose that's what I mean by 'unconventional'. I really hope you can all understand that.
> 
> Thanks for letting me share. It helps me a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


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